The Demon Hunter
by Calypso Jackson
Summary: Now that demon!Dean is real, my brain has gone slightly insane with ideas on how the Supernatural characters deal with this new development. So, this is my version of Season 10 and what will transpire. BACK FROM MY HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

"Crowley!" I cried out. Dean is in his room, dead. Killed because he didn't want me to get hurt.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by a raspy, Irish voice. "I love what you've done with the place." He said. "Totally bunkerish."

All my anger from the previous weeks came rushing in like a flood. I spun around and pinned the figure against the wall, my knife lodged under his neck.

"Crowley," I growled. "You pulled my brother into this, you better save him. Now." The knife dug in further. A steady stream of blood started trickling down his stubble.

"Relax, Moose. Dean is fine. He's right where you left him; most likely asleep."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Will he be okay?" The grip on him loosened just enough to stop cutting skin.

"Dean might have a few differences, but overall he is alive."

Before I could question Crowley's response, Dean stumbled into the room. His face was till battered. In one hand, he gripped the First Blade, and in the other, he was clutching his head. He looked up long enough for me to get a good look at his face.

Where I would normally see green, all I saw was a dark black. My brother, the demon hunter, is now a demon.


	2. Chapter 2

"Really Dean, enough with the theatrics." Crowley said. All I could do was stare at the shell that used to be my brother. He was leaning heavily against the wall, still clutching that stupid blade.

I let go of Crowley and marched over to Dean, my knife flickering viciously in the light. Dean pressed himself harder against the wall and his face paled.

My hand flashed out and grasped the hilt of the First Blade, wrenching it from his grasp. I chucked it across the room, out of the way. I hate that knife, I hate Cain, and I hate what they've both done to Dean.

Dean was pressed against the wall, looking away from me in shame. Sweat poured off his body. He was shaking like a leaf, probably scared I would hurt him.

"What in _Hell _ did you do to him?" I demanded from Crowley. I hate him too. My brother's black eyes glanced up and stared into mine. "You tried to sell your soul." He whispered.

Crap.

"It was to save you." I tried to reason, even though it was a sorry attempt.

"I told you I'd rather die than be a monster."

"I couldn't kill you."

"Well, I can."

And with that, he grabbed my knife that was held loosely at my side, and shoved it right through the middle of his stomach. His dark eyes, glistening with tears, met mine.

"Goodnight, Sammy." Dean whispered before falling in my arms.

Crap.

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Hey guys!

I just wanted to say, thank you so much to everyone who has favorited and followed this story! I appreciate reviews too!


	3. Chapter 3

If it wasn't for the Mark of Cain, Dean would have died… again. Even after he crumpled into my arms and I felt his blood pumping, I wasn't entirely sure he would make it. but he did.

And after Dean's last words to me, I could immediately tell that he wanted to die. I don't know if that should scare me or not.

The stab wound started to close as soon as I pulled the knife from his stomach. For once, Crowley didn't try to talk, opting to help me carry Dean and put him in his bed.

"Sam I-" He started, after Dean was settled.

"Save it, Crowley." I couldn't help but be mad. "I don't want to hear why he's suddenly a demon, at least, not yet. Just go… please."

I slid down the wall across from the foot of the bed and sat down defeated.

"Sam. I don't care if you never listen to another word I say, but I want you to hear this. Dean will most likely have a difficult time with this. Okay, he's not the same, but he's still Dean. And you're going to have to be there for him. No checking out and leaving him."

I was shocked by what Crowley said to me. I glanced up at Dean, who was lying asleep on the bed. His brows were scrunched together.

"Thank you, Crowley, for saving him." I didn't know what else to say and when I looked up, Crowley was gone.

"Looks like its just you and me." I said to Dean's unhearing ears.

Before I fell asleep with my back against the wall, I swore to myself that I would take care of Dean, even if it killed me.

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**Thank you, everyone! Reviews help me improve!**


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing I heard when I woke up was an intensive screaming.

Dean was tangled in his blanket, eyebrows pulled together, sweat rolling down his face.

"Dean!" I jumped up from my spot on the floor and ran to the bed.

"Come on Dean, wake up." I said as I shook his arm, trying to help him escape from his subconscious.

He bolted up, breathing heavily. His eyes flashed that cursed black before reverting to his natural green.

After Dean got his breath back and relaxed, I attempted conversation.

"Nightmare?"

He nodded.

"Wanna talk about it?"

He paused before answering me.

"It was me." He said, a single tear rolled down his face. "I'm the one who killed mama."

My heart broke at his words. "Dean, we both know thats not true. It was Azazel, not you."

"In my dream it was me though. So that must mean I killed her in real life." Dean tried to reason with me.

There was a long pause before he spoke again.

"Do you think I will always be like this?"

"Like what?"

"A demon."

"I don't know Dean. I just don't know."


	5. Chapter 5

The next time I woke up, Dean wasn't in the bed. Standing up and cracking my neck, I left the room and walked into the kitchen where Dean was sitting on the laptop. Behind him, a pancake was sitting over the stove, a spatula flipping it independently.

"Hey Sam!" Dean smiled up at me. "Check out what I can do!" The golden pancake moved from its spot on the stove to Dean's awaiting plate. "Imagine what we'll do with this."

Dean looked like a little kid on Christmas who just got a new video game, but me, I was shocked. The realization that Dean is a demon hit me head on.

"Want one?" Dean asked, gesturing with his fork to a stack on the counter. Swallowing my nausea, I replied. "No **thanks."** I poured myself a cup of coffee before sitting down beside Dean.

"Hey Dean." I started. It was now or never.

"Mmh?" He replied, not even looking up from the screen. His eyes were scanning the page as his hands smacked at the keyboard.

"I think we should take a break from hunting for a while." That got his attention. His head snapped up he closed the laptop.

"What do you mean?" Dean questioned. "There's still a job to do. Metatron is still alive, the angles still might rebel, Heaven is having its issues and-" I cut him off.

"Castiel can take care of it. There are other hunters, Dean too."

"But Sam, there are lives at stake!"

"Darn it, Dean!" I yelled, my chair flew back as I stood up. "I'm not worried about some other person's life. I'm worried about _your _ life. I always have been and always will. Why do you think I left Stanford? Huh? Do you think it was because I loved Dad, or even missed that God- forsaken Impala? No… it was because I knew if I didn't follow after you, you'd end up dead in a ditch before you even left Palo Alto!"

My breath was erratic. Dean's eyes met mine, glistening with tears, before he walked out of the room.

_What have I done?_

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**Hey guys! So I just wanted to say thank you for favoriting/ following/ or reviewing my story! Keep it up... please! What do you guys think of this chapter?**


	6. Chapter 6

Ever since I've woken up from the dead, I've been more scared than I've ever been.

As soon as I realized I was a demon, I just knew that Sammy would not be impressed. John taught him, I taught him, to kill anything with black eyes; and now I'm the one thing I hate. I'm a demon who's a demon hunter.

Mom would be so disappointed in me. She always taught me to be the hero; the bigger person. Now, I'm a demon, a knight of Hell. I don't save, I destroy. I rip apart families. I'm no better than Azazael or Metatron, or any of those supernatural forces that have screwed my life to hell.

I always wondered why Sam wanted to die that time he was in a coma. I thought it was because of me. I wondered what I did to make his life so miserable that he felt death would be better than life with me.

Now, I know why. Because in death, no one can screw you over. No one came take away your free will and force you into being somethig you don't want to be. If you're dead, you have nothing for anyone to take away.

I can't even have the privilege of dying anymore; all because of this stupid mark. I was hopping that maybe, maybe, stabbing myself with Sam's angle blade would remove me of my misery.

Never in my life have I wanted mom here. Or Bobby. Heck, even John would be a good option here.

But I guess in life, I don't have a choice.


	7. Chapter 7

Those next few days after my "suggestion" were tense. Dean avoided me at all means, possible, Castiel would not answer to a single one of my prayers, and no amount of summoning would bring Crowley to my side.

Dean was joined at the hip to my laptop. Anytime I would walk into the room that Dean and his precious device were in, he would close the pge he was on and go to his room, locking the door.

I knew that by him avoiding me, he was saying "You're right, but I don't like it."

It wasn't until the second week of silence that I was finally acknowledged. I woke up in the middle of the night to screams echoing from down the hall. "Dean?" I called out, only to hear the cries intensify.

I ran into his room to see tears leaking from his closed eyes. His entire body was cocooned in his blanket. Dean's heady was glistening from sweat.

I walked into his room, the floor creaking under my feet. Dean shot up like a spring, frantically looking around the room.

As soon as our eyes met, Dean's body was racked with sobs. I sat beside him on the bed and pulled him tight to me, hugging and rocking him lightly. Exactly like he used to do for me.

As his tears started to die down, I did the one thing I knew would comfort him.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad, take a sad song and make it better…"

The old familiar lyrics of The Beatles echoed against the bare walls. I repeated the lullaby untip Dean fell asleep, me soon following. When I woke up, Dean was curled in a ball, his head resting on my lap. For the first time in a while, he look at peace.

And all was well

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**Hey guys! So what do you think of the story so far? I want your opinions!**


	8. Chapter 8

Dean was improving on an hour- by- hour process.

He was like a bipolar patient. One second, he would be perfectly fine and it was easy to pretend that he hadn't become the latest Knight of Hel. Then the next, I would be forced to throw him into a devil's trap for him to chill.

Not for the first time had I wished that there was another person to help me. Kevin is dead, Castiel is busy helping with the restoration of Heaven, and Crowley is probably out overdosing on blood.

For a fleeting moment, I debated trying to contact Lisa, Dean's ex- girlfriend, and her son, Ben. Dean had moved in with them after he escaped from Hell, and if it wasn't for the fact that neither of the two remembered Dean, they would have been the first person I contacted.

"Sammy. Please. Let me out!" Dean yelled from his spot in the devil' strap. He was doing so good until his eyes flagged black and he reached for one of our kitchen knives.

He already has littered his arms with enough scars.

"Can you at least let me use the laptop?" He pleaded.

Sighing, I gathered the device and walked into the living room where a trap was drawn roughly onto the floor.

"Thanks, Sammy." He reached out as far as he could for the laptop. The thing he has been glued to for days.

I knew if was going to be my only chance to figure out his secret, so I pulled away from his outstretched hand.

"You can have it," I said. "Only if you tell me why."

"Big boobed Asians, Sammy." Dean tried to joke.

"I don't believe you."

"You're going to think I'm stupid."

"Try me."

Dean sighed and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Since you said we should take a break, I knew I would go stir crazy if I didn't do anything. At first, I started looking at hunts; simple salt and burns. One day, I saw this ad for an online GED program for people with learning disorders and I figured why not. I'm almost done with the program."

There was only one thing I know about Dean that he never told John. Dean has dyslexia. To any person who asks why he dropped out of high school, it was to help with the family buisness. When in truth, he could never stay in a school long enough to find a teacher that would help him find new ways to learn.

"Okay." I said, handing him the computer.

"You aren't mad?" He asked me.

"No. Call me if you need help."

Dean smiled. "Thanks!" His face already illuminated by the artificial light.

If I didn't believe that Dean could still remain intact, I sure do now.

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**So this is definitely my longest chapter so far. What do you think?**


	9. Chapter 9

It was exactly 4 months before Dean left the Bunker. Sure, I would run into town to gather supplies about one a week, but on those days, Dean would lock himself in a devil's trap with the laptop, and work on his school work.

Once Dean had completed his course, after 18 grueling weeks, he was required to attend a graduation ceremony in Belleville, Kansas, where he would receive his GED certification.

"I'm not going, Sam." Dean argued for the uptenth time that day. "What if I go demon at the ceremony. What if I do something stupid or wrong. Sammy… I can't."

I was so sick of the "can'ts" that accompanied demon Dean. He was so afraid of failing that he would never try.

Dean had completed the course at the top of his class. The college who puts on the program has a graduation ceremony, and since Dean was expected to give a speech, he had to go. He _needed _to go.

"Dean." I said, breaking off his stream of pleas. "You are going to go to the college, give a speech, get your certificate, and then I will never make you leave the Bunker again. Got it?"

And then Dean did something unexpected.

He cried.

"Sammy. I just, I don't want to hurt anyone. I'm a monster. I am the one thing I've been killing for 31 years. Please, Sammy. I can't ruin the one normal thing I've ever done."

It occurred to me that at some point in his life, Dean had dreamed of a mundane life outside of hunting. He dreamed of having kids, a steady job, living in a 2 story house with a white picket fence, growing old with the love of his life. I thought of all the potential in- laws, nephews, and nieces I could have had. I thought of Cassie, Anna, Lisa, Jo, and Charlie. All the chances that Dean had had at apple pie since he was four years old and he carried me out of his burning home.

"Dean." I walked over to his crouched position on the floor. His tear filled eyes met mine. "When you first got turned into a demon, I promised myself that I would take care of you, that I would help you. And that includes making you go to this ceremony. Okay?"

He looked up, fresh tears spilling from his swollen eyes.

"Okay."

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So what do y'all think? Reviews are appreciated. Next chapter will be Dean at the ceremony!


	10. Chapter 10

After that, it didn't take much convincing to get Dean to leave the Bunker. The second he was sitting shotgun in the Impala (he didn't trust himself to drive) it seemed like twenty years was etched off his face.

We ignored the age old rule of driver picks the music, just so that Dean could feel the full effect of his childhood; classic eighties rock music blaring from the speakers.

Its sad that the Impala and bad music were Dean's definition of "childhood."

We got to Belleville around two o'clock the day before the ceremony. Checking into a seedy motel with beach themed rooms (seriously, the _beach_ in Kansas), Dean took his customary bed closest to the door.

"Feels like old times, huh Sammy." Dean commented. And I had to agree. The nostalgia was overwhelming.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean piped up.

"Yea, Dean?"

"You think we could hit up a diner or something?"

"I'd thought you'd never ask."

Loading into the Impala, we ended up at a bar on the edge of town. We took our traditional seats in the back corner and waited for our waitress to take our orders.

"What can I get you?" asked a young girl about 15. A notepad in her hand, her blonde hair was pulled back with a few pieces framing her face.

Dean and I ordered cheeseburgers and pie. His knee was bouncing and his fingers gripped the table.

"Dean, calm down." I tried to comfort him.

"I can't calm down." He gritted out thru clenched teeth. Dean's eyes were freckled with black.

"Hey, focus on me, Dean." I could tell he would go demon if I couldn't get control of him soon.

"Remember that time we were kids and you signed me out of school for the day and we went to see that movie?" "Yeah." Dean said. "Top Gun."

His breathing was a little less erratic and a ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

"That was an awesome movie, wasn't it Dean?" I have to keep him talking.

"Yeah, even though Dad gave me hell for it." He laughed, his eyes were finally back to their natural green. "It was worth it though."

"Agreed."

Almost down to the second, our waitress came back with the food.

"Dig in, Sammy." Dean said, taking a big bite from his cheeseburger.

"Sir, yes sir." This trip may not be ideal, but we can make it. We are the Winchester's after all.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean didn't want to get to the awards ceremony any sooner than he had to, which was still pretty early. His speech was written, but he refused to let me read it. "You'll ruin the surprise." He'd say with a smirk.

Pulling into the college's parking lot, we walked side by side to the auditorium, where the ceremony was to be held. Dean wouldn't quit fiddling with his tie.

"Calm down, Dean. We will let you give your speech, get your certificate, and then you'll never have to leave the house again. You can become a couch potato and watch Doctor Sexy reruns for the rest of your life.

He perked up a little at that.

We went inside and were hit with a crowd of people. Dean's hands started shaking violently, so I grabbed his shoulder in support and walked to where the other "graduates" were waiting.

It reminded me very much of my own graduation, when Dean was the only one to show up because Dad was off ganking some monster.

"Dean Winchester?" A lady with a clipboard called out. Dean raised his hand timidly. "Right here, ma'am."

"Oh, good." She made her way over and stuck her hand out.

"My name is Doctor Lancaster. I have been the one grading all of your work and I have to ask, what prompted such a brilliant young man to not graduate?"

"Well, no offense m'am, but my family comes before anything. Including something as irrelevant as school. At the time, my family needed me, so I walked out one afternoon and never went back."

Doctor Lancaster, one who was obviously a big advocate for education, didn't know how to respond to that.

"Well, are you ready to give your speech?" She tried again.

"About as ready as I'll ever be."

"Outstanding. We will call you up on the stage when it is time for you to present. Why don't you and your boyfriend grab a seat near the front?"

_Boyfriend?_

"Um, m'am? I'm not-"

"Of course. Thank you so much Doctor." Dean cut me off. "Come on, honey. We want to get a good seat." He threw his arm around me and sent Doctor Lancaster his signature smirk as we walked away.

Talk about embarrassing.

The room was huge with a decorated stage at the front. A podium was positioned at the center with a row of chair behind it and ferns resting along the edge.

I had to applaud the obvious amount of effort it took to make this look like an actual high school graduation ceremony. People of all ages started filling into the seats. One man had to be in his late 50s sat right beside us, along with his wife and 3 kids. Some in wheelchairs, some with oxygen tanks and such, and others like Dean who didn't carry their disabilities like an old coat.

The lights dimmed, breaking me from my thoughts. Dean looked nervous as Doctor Lancaster approached the podium.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. My name is Doctor Lancaster and for those of you who don't know, I am the facilitator for the Cloud Community College Special Needs GED program. This program was designed to give disabled students a special path in receiving their GED, which takes the place of a high school diploma. Before we hand out your certificates, I would like to call on Mr. Dean Winchester, a participant of this course, to come to the stage.

Dean got up and walked to the front, all the while unfolding a sheet of paper that was stuffed in his pocket.

"Hello." started Dean. The microphone gave a small screech.

"My mom died when I was four years old in a house fire. Soon after, my father started going downhill, forcing my brother and I to grow up in sleazy motel rooms and the back of his 1967 Impala. My dad was convinced my mother's death was murder. As a result of his insane mentality, the instructions, 'Take care of your brother' was the the only words he ever spoke to me. My family came before me and over the years I grew to accept it.

My brother's safety was the reason I had to drop out of school. One time, when my father was out searching for the man who killed my mother, he didn't leave us enough money to sustain us. Three weeks later and we didn't hear a word from the man. I just stopped going to school and got a job as part- time mechanic.

Dean stopped and looked up from his paper at the crowd. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Just recently, I was diagnosed as bipolar, along with my previous disabilities being dyslexia, PTSD, and anxiety. Getting my GED is the first thing I've done for my self in thirty years. And my only family still alive to witness it is my brother."

The crowd all had somber expressions on their faces as Dean stepped down from the stage. He crumpled his paper back into his pocket and took his seat next to me.

After the ceremony was over, and Dean officially had received his GED, I saw him drop his speech in the trashcan by the door. As he walked past me toward the car, I reached down and unfolded it.

The paper was completely blank.


End file.
